


sixty-seven rhetorical

by evanlinge



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e13 Total Eclipse of the Heart, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanlinge/pseuds/evanlinge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It reminds Enzo of the Augustine massacre on New Year's Eve when Damon broke free and slaughtered the party guests. And then of course, left Enzo to die in a fire, but he thinks they're working around that. Fuck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sixty-seven rhetorical

 

* * *

 

The clink of chains over the buzz of flickering hospital lights makes for a suitably dramatic horror scene, in retrospect. The dull luminescence in the hallway is magnified in Damon's head, pressing into his pupils like an electric drill. Even Enzo's careful footsteps seem uncommonly loud, and Damon thinks of Maxfield's smug, pallid little face, fading out of sight.

There's a kid chained to a metal divider when Damon steps into the trashed out medical room, and despite the space separating them he can sense the kid's racing pulse– too erratic for a vampire, too quick for a human; but he's quite fit and breathing like it's automatic, so, baby vampire then? The kid looks up, all fever-glazed eyes and soft skin as Damon glides closer.

“Can you get me out 'of here?” He huffs out a desperate breath, “I don' want t' be here– need 'a get 'out,” he slurs his words rapidly, head lolling down to his chest again.

Damon raises his brows, curious and wary all at once. One of Maxfield's experiments, to be sure, but then again– he takes in the long eyelashes and the scent of new-vampire blood, before reaching up to tear out the chain and step back with one easy movement.

The kid stumbles with the suddenly released weight, momentum pushing him into Damon's personal space, the broken chain sliding from his neck. He really is just as oddly striking up close.

There is a spreading hunger rushing through Damon's blood as the young vampire glances up, relieved thanks turning to alarm as Damon's fangs elongate and comprehension returns. Well, isn't that just brilliant, Damon decides, recalling Maxfield's snide remark about new friends.

“What's happening to you?”

Damon looks back, smiling, almost. “I'm going to go ahead and say karma,” he inhales again as the kids swallows, wanting to lick the flaking blood from the curve of his pretty, _soft_ -skinned wrists. “Karma is happening to me.”

Damon barely registers it, one moment they're standing inches apart, and in the next Damon has him shoved against the metal grating as the kid gasps, chokes, and then slumps limply into Damon's arms. It's savage, _animalistic_ – the tear of vampire skin under Damon's fangs and the electrifying roar of _hunger_ that overwhelms him.

“Damon,” Enzo is saying, a odd note in his voice. “Damon, stop–”

It's ironic. Enzo standing there with his cute frat-boy leather jacket and stylish sneakers, staring back at Damon in perturbed surprise. Honestly, Damon has never managed to pull off the innocent university student look that Enzo is projecting. Something in the genes, he supposes.

 

* * *

 

It's the scent that pulls him there. The sharp smell of fresh vampire blood washing over Enzo like he's chewing on copper coins. The sight that greets him is horrifying and startlingly arousing all at once. It reminds him of the 1950s when Damon would face the bars separating them and talk about his younger sibling. _Baby-ripper_ , Damon would say, and laugh like he was sharing an inside joke. _He'd feed so hard he'd rip them apart_ , he would say, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards, like the idea of his typically mild-mannered little brother losing it is endearing. Crazy fucker.

The scene is confusing for a moment before Damon pulls back and lets the boy's body fall, head rolling away on the cheap linoleum tiles. _Baby-ripper_ , Enzo remembers, and wonders if it runs in the family.

Damon looks back at him, glittering eyes contrasting with the haphazard smears of red across his face. Nausea wells up fast in Enzo's gut because that's _vampire_ blood all over Damon's pretty face, and the headless corpse is still spilling dark blood on the hospital floor. There's something intrinsically wrong about this picture. It reminds Enzo of the Augustine massacre on New Year's Eve when Damon broke free and slaughtered the party guests. And then of course, left Enzo to die in a fire, but he thinks they're working around that. Fuck.

Of course, he thinks, when it comes down to it, who is really more responsible? The lunatic in the mental asylum or the bloody idiot who threw open the padded doors and invited him out to play? To think that Enzo encouraged this– that Enzo is a fucking enabler.

There's vampire blood all over the fucking floor and Damon is looking at Enzo, all heat and hunger etched into his features, licking his lips like an addict who can't get enough. It's violently wrong. It's unexpectedly erotic. Enzo wants to throw Damon to the floor and get him to _stop looking at him_ like that. Like he looked at Aaron Whitmore. Like he's _prey_.

 

 

“Okay,” Enzo pauses to take a measured step forwards. “I can see how this might be a problem.”

 

* * *

A/N: I had this buzzing around my head for days after I saw this episode and kind of fell in love with the whole DamonandEnzo murder date thing. And then this.

 

 


End file.
